One Step Closer to Ruining Your Life
by autumnall
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy isn't as fine as he seems. Arthur Kirkland recognizes this after stumbling upon a wasted, sad Frenchman when he decides to pay a visit to apologize for some stupid yet hurtful thing he has said earlier. The story of Francis' alcoholism and Arthur's effort to help him continues in later chapters. human names but not human AU


_1.) Start with chugging down a bottle of red wine. Stay away from Bordeaux or Beaujolais. Maury and Banyuls are great choices. The catch is the highest amount of alcohol, if it wasn't already obvious._

 _2.) Then step up your game with vodka or whiskey. If you're feeling like you want a challenge, why not both?_

 _3.) Don't forget to stay away from cocktails, they're waste of good alcohol. Not that you're capable of preparing one with your blurry vision anyway._

 _4.) Congratulations, you're one step closer to ruining your liver and life for good but at least you're warm and cozy right?_

He loved it. His blond, normally luscious, well-groomed hair was stuck on his forehead and nape of his neck with sweat. He wasn't asleep, yet not awake either. It was just like one of his ordinary nights.

Francis Bonnefoy. The golden man of romance and all things nice and passionate. The man who enjoys his Sauvignon Blanc moderately and only with his shrimp. Or everyone thought so, just like they thought he was never hurt, sad or broken. He loved that too. Sure, it was good to be seen like that. Now, after all these years he didn't even remember if it was the façade he created or a mask he had to wear all the time because others expected so. He loved one more thing, the warmth. It was nice being warm with no one next to you. It was better than crying while witnessing the tremors on your cold sweaty hands. He hasn't cried for a long time, he hasn't had that as a part of his future plans either. Being emotionless, dry, empty was much better. Fill in your tummy, as you free your brain and heart of pain. He was keeping up so far so good. He tried to drink as little as possible during the day as a rule of thumb anyway. Sure, if a meeting was longer than usual some could start to realize his more relaxed or lethargic attitude. But he didn't think none could have guessed it was related to the opaque water bottle he was always carrying, claiming he loved keeping himself hydrated for a glowing skin. Again, as another rule of thumb he never spent a night without drinking until he almost passed out. Was it bad? He didn't know. Could he die? Probably no. Would it matter if he did? Certainly not. He loved it because it meant for a few hours each day he didn't have to think about all the people he had lost, all the mistakes he had done, everything that had hurt him, his fellow countries' misjudgments, his Angleterre's hatred. He thought about all these things, more than he would if he were spending his time watching tv or reading but this way he didn't feel any pain. It was like watching himself as he were someone else and feeling apathetic. A liver to sacrifice was nothing in comparison. Feeling sleepy, he slowly closed his eyes to embrace the darkness behind his eyelids, waiting for his consciousness to shut down just like his eyes did.

Arthur was feeling terrible. He was a jerk, he never wanted to admit it but maybe he really was. He never did that on purpose though. Well, he sometimes did but not this time.

 **Earlier that day**

"So you're saying you have stuff to do?" Francis asked his lips curled mischieviously .

"Yes, frog. That's what I'm saying." He said with a fake annoyance.

"I was thinking..." He started running his fingertips up the other man's arm.

The green eyes were focused on his gracious fingers. He didn't say anything and closed his eyes, sighing.

"I was thinking, maybe you can ignore your responsibilities for a few hours and we can have some quality time. Also you're looking way too good to spend your whole day in a boring and poorly designed office."

He knew how much Arthur loved arthouse movies, he wanted him to watch the recent one made in his own country, thinking and hoping he would like it.

Arthur let out a giggle. It wasn't very much like him.

"Ah, Francis. I would thank you but I know it's one of your classical pick up lines to get someone into bed."

The cheerful blond froze for a few seconds, the gleam in his blue lively eyes was slowly fading and his light brown eyebrows were furrowed down.

"Oh so you think I'm that kind of person?"

Arthur was surprised. They have always said all sort of things to each other, never actually bothered.

"Are you really vexed with me over such a tiny joke?"

Francis squeezed his eyes shut, looking like he was filled with hatred.

"No, why would I? I would rather try my chance with someone else than spend time on such a trivial thing. After all, all I want is to get laid right?" He spit these words out with an unusual mocking tone. It wasn't him, it wasn't his usual teasing. It was actually mocking. Who? Arthur? Himself? Arthur thought Francis was mocking him. Francis? He didn't even know whom he was mocking.

He pushed his chair back to get up. He didn't even bother to wish the other blond a good day like he almost always did, even if they had argued.

Arthur was really feeling bad. He never wanted to hurt that frog. Francis. He only joked around because he didn't know how to deal with compliments. He was so used to snarky comments and arguments for centuries. But times were changing, finally meeting up to the desires hidden in his heart.

He knocked on the door after taking a deep breath, a sort of expensive French wine in his other hand. After waiting a few seconds, his anxiety started increasing instead of lessening, also no one was opening the door. That no one was Francis to be specific since he lived alone.

Is he sleeping this early, he thought then discarded that thought upon remembering how Francis was joining the bandwagon of the sleepy during the World Meetings claiming he slept late. The door finally opened, bringing him back to reality. The man who opened the door, the man whose blue eyes met with his green eyes looked really tired.

"Are you okay?"

"Suis-je? Absolumente!" He giggled. Arthur always acted like he didn't understand a single word but his French knowledge was actually existent, rusty but existent.

"May I come in? Look I'm sorry for what I've said today. I couldn't think it would be hurtful."

He didn't say anything for a moment, Arthur attributed that to the fact he was probably thinking. But for Francis, it was just figuring out what the words meant and what he had to do to get rid of his sudden headache. He leaned forward and opened the door.

He tottered slightly towards the couch he was sitting on before the doorbell rang. Arthur, as someone who had seen Francis' house multiple times, was surprised. There were bottles on the couch and everything was plain messy. Since he also had the chance to take a full look at the man as well, he recognized it wasn't him. Technically, it was the blond man he had seen every day but it also wasn't him. The difference was as plain as a pikestaff. His usually neatly buttoned silk shirt was messy and open. His always luscious, godly hair was a blond mess that stuck on his sweaty forehead. His shining, excited, witty eyes were as dull as of a fish's. He didn't want to know why he was like this because it also would hurt him yet he also had to ask. Before sitting next to him, he placed the bottle on the black coffee table.

"Oh, wine." The long haired man muttered.

"Yeah, you seem like you had enough of it tonight."

Francis, who had an eagerness to reply to even his insults, was silent now. Arthur didn't know what to say, with his slightly shaky voice he asked:

"Why did you drink that much?" He counted the bottles. A vodka and a wine bottle. Two. Too much for a night considering vodka's alcohol content. No answer. Green eyed man finally gained the strength to ask him what he wanted to ask.

"Is it because we argued? I'm really sorry, Francis."

"Non."

"What? Then why?" He was intrigued about the answer but also terrified by this different Francis.

"I don't have a reason, life is just harder when I don't." He had reasons, reasons he didn't like to think, reflect on. Reasons? Oh everyone thinks I'm a heartless playboy, you hate me, I'm old and I miss people I lost, I also miss the carefree attitude I had as a child, can you remember those days Arthur? Can you? Why can't we go back to those days?

He thought he didn't say these out loud but he did, in French. Arthur was surprised because he was able to roughly understand what the man said.

"Everything will be alright, Francis. I'm sorry that you feel this way. Tout ira bien."

He didn't even care about his French ability being obvious. Meanwhile, the longer haired blond leaned on the other's shoulder, his lips curled into a smile.

"I don't need your pity, Arthur." His words and the way he talked didn't match with the expression on his face

"I'm not pitying you. I'm worried." He really was, he wasn't one to freak out visibly but he was freaking out. His excessive drinking wasn't even exclusive for today, how could he not?

"For how long has this routine of yours been going on?" He asked, after spending some thought on how to phrase this without hurting him.

"Well, not for such a long time but not recent either." He admitted.

"Does anyone knows?" Arthur asked soothingly.

"Non, only you." He replied, pressing his lips together.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I made you extra sad probably."

Francis smiled again.

"Guess I always should be like this to get your attention."

Arthur gawked, for a brief peaceful second before he understood what the other man said.

"Do you think I like seeing you in pain? I don't." He said firmly but kept his anger under control.

"But I'm not in pain, I've never felt better." He chuckled.

"You think you are, you're not. I don't know how I was so blind to that. Or how everyone else was. I'm so so sorry Francis. I love you so please don't waste yourself in front of my eyes." He said all these in a rush, quickly, without filtering his words. And a specific sentence caught the other man's attention.

"You- you love me?"

Arthur normally would deny that, he probably was going to do that later anyway but not now.

"Yes, I do." He said, placing the drunk man's head on his lap after recognizing how sleepy he was.

"I see, so you think I don't." He mumbled groggily.

"What? Bloody no, Francis!"

He opened his radiant blue eyes filled with tears.

"Then why did you say the things you said today?" Arthur surely would smile if the meaning of these words didn't rip his heart in two, because Francis' accent was heavier than usual and it was really cute and charming to hear for the Brit.

"Because-" He took a moment to find a way to express what's on his mind.

"Because I don't think you would ever find me nice, good looking or something close to that. It's not about you Francis, I am just not that important, you see. I'm sorry that I hit way too close to home."

The French shook his head in disbelief.

"Really?"

Arthur built up all the courage he could before placing a soft kiss on the other's lips and backing away quickly.

"Is it enough to proof?"

Arthur's cheeks were burning, he was really happy that it was nighttime. On the other hand, Francis was surprised, his head was aching, he was awake when he was supposed to be asleep, he was kissed by the man whom he loved for centuries, yet he also was feeling exposed. Ignoring the negative aspects, he smiled with true joy.

"I, I guess so."

Arthur smiled, placing another kiss on his sweaty forehead and blond hair. He got more serious after that.

"Francis, we'll talk about that when you're sober by the way. Don't even try ignoring me. And I'll help you as much as I can." He whispered. The other was able to hear him but way too weary to actually respond.

Arthur didn't need an answer anyway. He smiled as the sleeping man snuggled closer to him. He was confident. Not in himself, especially not after recognizing he was one of the factors that troubled Francis but he knew that man for centuries. He had confidence in him. He made his life a tad bit easier and a lot better for centuries, sure he could get his life back on track, if given the support. He placed another kiss on his forehead, scared of waking him up and closed his own eyes in order to fall asleep, after all tomorrow was going to be tiring.

 **Translation**

Suis-je? Absolumente!: Am I? Absolutely!

Tout ira bien: Everything will be alright.

I hope you liked it, since I'm trying to improve my writing and English isn't my native language feedback and comments are appreciated! :)


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